A is for Animals?
by squad51rescue
Summary: This story precedes B is For Beginning - the title says it all! A little light reading. I am attempting the alphabet challenge - have no idea who posted that or when, but thanks for the challenge! Rated for teenagers - just some minor language and innuendos.
1. Crawlies, Venom, and Coils

A is for ….Animals?

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><p>Characters and show belong to Universal and Mark VII - just borrowing!<p>

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><p><span>Crawlies, Venom, and Coils<span>

"Not late..not late…not late," came the whispered mantra as the dark haired man shot through the opened back bay door of the fire station, flew up the passenger side of the red squad, and flung his partially opened gear bag in through the opened window. He slid to a skidding halt next to his new partner of several weeks, and sheepishly grabbed the proffered dress hat that was slyly extended to him. Jamming it on his head, he uneasily turned to face the captain.

"Nice of you to join us, Gage," Dick Hammer stated dryly, glaring at the newly certified paramedic. He stared at him for a moment, watching the slow blush crawl slowly up the young man's neck and tint the reddish, tanned skin of his cheeks. His lips turned up slightly at the corners as he also noted the unruly hair now squashed by the hat, the three days' worth of facial hair shadowing his lip and jaw, and the dried mud clinging to the hem of his pants and to the sides of his dusty black boots – clearly evidence of last shift's rescue. "And, Gage?"

"Uhh..yes sir?" The clearly flustered and embarrassed paramedic stammered, looking everywhere but at the man in charge.

"Come to work prepared to work, not looking like you just worked a landslide rescue and a three alarm fire to boot! Is that clear?"

"Yes sir! Won't happen again, sir!" Muttered snickers bounced around the half circle of men facing the captain; Hammer turned his head slightly to the side to hide the grin that kept threatening to overtake his face and ruin his hardnosed reputation with this brand new station. Thank God he would have a few more shifts to reel in Gage's impetuous ways and hopefully get him on an even, calm float before the permanent engine crew showed up for their new posts.

After going over the day's assignments and the latest announcements, Hammer dismissed his men to their duties and returned to his office to begin his never ending mountain of paperwork. Roy DeSoto, the senior paramedic of the pair, took the few steps necessary to bring him to the side compartment of their squad and unlocked the door. He paused and looked at his visibly vibrating partner, hands jammed in his front pockets, who had moved up behind him. He laid a stopping hand on his arm as the dark haired man pulled a hand free from his pocket and started reaching for the bio-phone.

"Gage, why don't you go clean up, and I'll check the supplies and take care of the radio check."

After a second of thought, John Gage nodded and held out a hand for Roy's hat, which Roy gladly handed off to him. Watching his hyper partner take off in the direction of the locker room, Roy smiled and began pulling the boxes out, wondering exactly what he gotten himself into asking the other man to be his partner.

Supplies checked and the radio check complete with Rampart Hospital, DeSoto crossed the bay and poked his head into the locker room. In the process of wiping shaving cream off his face, his younger counterpart looked over at him and grinned, cheekily flicking an imaginary speck of foam at him before grabbing his comb and dragging it through his black hair.

"I think Johnson just made a fresh pot of coffee; you want me to pour you a cup?"

"Nah, I think I'm on caffeine overload right now. Must have guzzled about eight cups of it on the way home, "Johnny replied, tossing his shaving kit into his open locker and grabbing up his blue uniform shirt slung carelessly over the bench. Picking up his newly shined boots with one hand and shrugging the shirt on over his white v necked t-shirt with the other hand, he dogged Roy's heels right into the lounge/kitchen area, poking his head into the fridge while Roy grabbed a clean mug and poured coffee.

Leaning back against the counter, Roy watched in amusement as John shook the milk carton, then proceeded to open it and drain it dry, gulping audibly. The two linemen sitting at the table, open newspapers in their hands, looked up and made oinking noises, before casually returning to their interrupted reading. Gage simply laughed, wiping the heel of his hand across his newly shaven skin, and tossed the empty carton into the trash. He bent over and yanked on his boots.

"What exactly were you doing on your three days off, Gage?" Roy asked curiously, thinking of how he had used his own much needed time - sleeping, yard work, and spending some well overdue quality time with his wife and children.

"Camping, hiking, a little climbing….Superstition Mountains in Arizona. Man, that is some beautiful country over there, ya know?" Gage pulled a chair away from the kitchen table, spun it around, and dropped into it facing the back, resting his sunburned arms across the top.

"Still a little hot in Arizona in September, isn't it?" DeSoto queried, staring pointedly at the red arms and the even redder v-shaped patch of skin visible below his partner's collarbones. He figured it had to be pretty hot for his already summer tanned partner to get sunburned.

Johnny shrugged. "Roy, my brain was so fried from three months of studying and taking exams, I figured a little more sunbaking wouldn't hurt. 'Sides, didn't spend all of my time outside."

"Meaning?"

"A few side trips here and there…" his partner answered, an almost dreamy look settling over his features while a slow smile tugged his lips upward.

Roy rolled his eyes, but realized he wouldn't get any more out of the younger man, at least not right now. He glared at Gallagher and Peters, who had both given up on the pretense of reading the paper and were staring at John in various stages of admiration and curiosity.

"So…..Gage," Peters drawled out, his southern accent sounding almost foreign in the California fire station. "You got a chick over there in the desert?"

John's eyes crinkled as the slow smile erupted into a toothy grin, teeth flashing a brilliant white against his tanned, slightly reddened face. "Wouldn't you….." was all he managed to reply as the tones sounded out, effectively ending the conversation.

The paramedics made their way to the squad, donning helmets and tightening straps as their captain answered the dispatcher and then handed the address to DeSoto, who in turn passed the slip of paper to Gage. He scanned the address to verify what he had heard, then directed his partner.

As they headed down 223rd Street, Roy chanced an amused glance sideways at Johnny, who was muttering something and kicking his feet in annoyance at the forgotten, opened gear bag at his feet. He finally gave up and propped one foot up on the seat, and let the other one rest on the bag.

Sam Lanier's voice came over the radio, cancelling the call. John acknowledged it with a brief, "10-4 LA", and then resumed his rummaging around on the floor, this time with his hands. Roy flicked off the lights and sirens and pulled into a parking lot to turn around.

"Owww!" Gage exclaimed, jerking backwards in his seat and waving his left hand frantically. This surprise move was followed by several, calculated hard stomps of a booted foot, and a muttered expletive. Roy bit back his snort of laughter at the unexpected word that flew from his normally reserved partner; he watched in puzzlement as his partner wiped at something on his boot with the call slip.

"What…?" Roy began, then shut up as Johnny angrily whipped up the scrap of paper, opening it to show Roy the almost unrecognizably squashed scorpion smashed on it.

"Bark scorpion. Stupid thing must have hitched a ride in my bag; I used the bag for a pillow when I was camping. Nasty thing nailed me on the finger…" John wiggled his left middle finger at Roy, before folding the paper back up, carefully avoiding putting his fingers anywhere near the tail.

"Uhhh….is that dangerous, I mean the bite? Do you need to go to Rampart? I don't remember covering this in our training." Roy queried, peering at the hand his partner was now flexing and shaking in frustration.

"Nahhhh….only bad for little kids and old people. Hurts like hell for a bit, then it tingles, then it will probably go numb," Johnny replied, slouching down in the seat slightly and leaning his head back, his lips narrowed in a grimace of pain.

"Sounds like you've been stung before? Isn't there anything you can do for it?"

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Johnny just shook his head and drew one leg back up on the seat. "Several times, and no, nothing you can really do. Pouring bleach over it is one of the remedies suggested by my peop….ahhh, by some people, but that's never really worked for me. I'll take some aspirin when we get back to the station; that will take the edge off, plus the pain will be gone in an hour or so anyway."

Roy took the hint and shifted the squad back into drive; they made the short trip back to the station in silence. Johnny stared out the window, leg bouncing slightly on the seat while Roy kept the rest of his comments and questions to himself.

Once they were back in the safe harbor of the apparatus bay, Johnny catapulted himself out of his seat, dragging the bag after him. He unceremoniously dumped the contents of the bag on the cement floor, and began picking up each item of clothing, shaking it, and flinging it into a pile. Roy, who had rounded the back of the squad, leaned casually against the compartment door, folded his arms, and observed the frenzied movements of his, clearly still caffeine strung out, partner.

Trying and failing to keep the amusement out of his voice, Roy cautiously asked, "You didn't go home after the last shift, did you? Looks like all that stuff is dirty."

"Nah, headed right out," he replied, looking up from the floor, where he was now kneeling next to the bag. He gave it a furious shake, carefully looked inside of it, then turned it inside out. "I was planning on heading back yesterday morning so I could get stuff done, but I uhhh…kinda got detained."

Roy looked upwards, as if beseeching help from another source, then squatted down next to Johnny and helped him stuff the dirty laundry back into the bag. Apparently he was going to have to pull the story out word by word. "So how did you get "detained" exactly?"

Gage paused in his actions and glanced around, almost furtively, before answering in a low, quiet voice. "See, there was this girl…..we really hit it off. I met her up in Sedona, she's really into the vibes up there, ya know?"

At Roy's head shake, Johnny threw up his hands in a "whatever" gesture, and lurched to his feet. He grabbed the now zippered bag and headed for the locker room, again looking around before he continued the dialogue. "Anyway, she spent the last two days hanging around with me, hiking, swimming, whatever, so I decided that the least I could do was to offer her a ride home. She rode up to Sedona with some friends, so it was just as easy to take her home to Tucson, then it was to go back to Sedona.

John shrugged, opening up his locker and tossing the bag inside. "That's it, end of story." He reached up to the shelf and grabbed a bottle of aspirin, dumping two into his palm before returning the bottle and slamming the door closed.

"Why didn't you just leave Tucson earlier?"

"Well, ahhh, her roommate was gone, and we both really needed showers, plus we were , uhhhh, tired 'cause both nights before that it was too hot to sleep in the back of my camper, so we just rolled my sleeping bag out on the ground….come on, Roy!" The telltale blush was crawling up Johnny's neck again, effectively darkening the sunburn to a mahogany hue; plus it didn't help that Roy could no longer keep his amusement to himself and was snickering.

"Come on yourself, Junior! I may be married, but it doesn't mean that I don't enjoy hearing of your adventures, especially with the way you tell the story!" Roy gave into his laughter and collapsed on the narrow bench in front of the lockers; Johnny glared at him in mock hurt and crossed over to the sinks to rinse down his pills.

"Squad 51, woman down, 1634 Clayton Blvd., 1-6-3-4 Clayton Blvd, cross streets Wilshire and Beverly, time out 09:08," interrupted the tones, both men pausing to listen, before heading back towards the squad.

"Squad 51, 10-4," Hammer replied, materializing out his office to take the call.

They were out in the street before Roy looked over at Gage; he was rewarded with a lopsided grin. All was definitely right between them, he thought to himself, with his own internal grin.

They pulled up to the curb in front of a ranch style home; an older man was standing in the lush green yard waving frantically at them. Dropping his helmet on the roof of the squad, Johnny quickly unlocked the compartment door and grabbed the bio phone and the drug box. After a quick glance at Roy, he trotted across the thick grass towards the man, wondering briefly why such a beautiful lawn had a bumpy texture to it.

"It's my daughter! She just collapsed, in here, follow me, here…" His words floated out behind him as he bolted through the front door, leaving the paramedics scrambling to catch up to him.

Taking in the scene with a quick glance, Johnny set the bio phone down on the coffee table and slid the black drug box across the floor towards Roy, who knelt down at the daughter's side with his back up against enormous floor to ceiling bookcases. While Roy checked her pulse, John flipped the lid on the orange box and screwed the antennae in.

"Rampart, this is Rescue 51, how do you read me?" He queried, pulling notebook and green pen from his pocket and glancing over at his partner, who was now counting the young woman's respirations. He cast a professional but appreciative look at the young woman; she was dressed in a white miniskirt that showed off her long, tanned legs and her striped top was tied off snugly beneath her ample breasts. He had to bite back his grin at how quickly his partner removed his hand from the bare skin on her stomach after getting the count. He dropped his head and focused his attention on the bio phone.

"This is Rampart, read you loud and clear, 51," came the reply in Dixie McCall's professional, but pleasant radio voice.

"Uh Rampart, female about age 20, probable syncope episode, her pulse and respir…" Johnny broke off abruptly, his mouth opening in shock and surprise as he looked back over at Desoto.

Completely oblivious to what was transpiring behind and above him, Roy wrapped the bp cuff around the woman's arm and began to pump it up; judging by her fluttering eyelashes and normal readings, the woman was already waking up. Intent on watching the dial, he didn't notice for a few seconds a weight sliding across his back and sliding forward over his right shoulder. Finally feeling something odd, he looked up from his intent perusal of the numbers and saw Gage had half risen to his feet, his hand pointing at Roy and a look of horror on his face.

Stethoscope still in his ears, Roy couldn't make out words his partner was mouthing; he instinctively raised his hands toward his shoulder and touched smooth, slightly cool, whoops, shouldn't have ran my hand upwards, almost feels, scaly? Roy gulped and slowly removed the ends of the stethoscope from his ears; he wished he hadn't when he could clearly hear his partner's appropriately hissing words, "Roy….snake!"

Swallowing hard, the light haired paramedic slowly glanced down and stared at the enormous expanse of brown, and black patterned skin that was undulating downward on his shirt. A choking sound erupted from below him; their female patient had raised herself on her elbows and was giggling wildly.

"Walter, you naughty boy! That's where you've been hiding! Come here, baby…" she crooned, raising a hand to stroke the snake as he, tongue flicking, slowly slid his way down Roy and gracefully moved onto his owner. Roy raised himself to his feet, pressing back against the bookshelves until he remembered that was where the snake had appeared from. He abruptly danced his way around the woman's feet around to the other side, momentarily distracted by a thump. Johnny, who had moved around the coffee table to come to his partner's aid, had taken a fast backward step at the woman's laughter. The backs of his legs hit the edge of the table and down he went, on his backside, with a thud.

The two partners stared at each other in disbelief before the squawking of the abandoned bio phone broke their reverie. Johnny spun around, still sitting, and grabbed up the black phone. "Sorry, um, Rampart, we had a situation. Patient alert and uh….stand by…."

He glanced over at Desoto, who had bravely approached the young woman, and was asking her questions. After several giggling answers, Roy looked over his shoulder and gave a John a thumb up. "Refuses treatment, Rampart. Will advise, see own doctor."

"10-4, 51." Dixie's curiosity laden voice replied. Gage was a blur of motion as he packed up the phone and trotted quickly towards the front door, only slowing down enough to check that Roy was finished with the patient. Seeing that his partner was having the now standing woman, snake casually wrapped about her neck, sign the form required for refusal of treatment, Johnny bolted out the door. He slowed only when his feet hit the cushy grass, kicking in irritation at the bumps he kept encountering.

"Geesh, you'd think that they could drag a roller over that," he muttered in frustration, stomping his feet on the sidewalk to rid his newly polished shoes of the sandy granules clinging to them. "What is that stuff, anyways?"

He was wiping his feet on the grass at the edge of the sidewalk when Roy finally appearing, sporting a satisfied grin. "Hey John, Amber wants to thank you."

Johnny looked in the direction Roy was pointing; Amber was standing by the front door, snake still draped over her, waving at them. "Thank you, fireman! Make sure Roy gives you the paper!"

The dark haired paramedic sketched her a quick wave before turning to Roy in confusion. What? He mouthed to his partner, pointing to himself and raising his eyebrows. Roy dropped the box on the shelf before fully facing the younger man.

"Well, Johnny, she took quite a liking to you. She asked me to give you her phone number." He handed him the folded piece of paper, still grinning.

Gage stared speculatively at the paper in his fingers before slowly turning his head and gazing with new interest at the lovely lady still standing at the entrance. His eyes started at her feet and tracked up her long legs, moved past her narrow waist, lingered on her, well, her assets before moving up…..and locking, loading, freezing on the brown, geometric patterned stole reflecting the sunlight….no way!

"Huh! What'd you do, make friends with that snake?" he groused, shaking his leg in irritation, and sliding the paper into his shirt pocket.

Roy watched him in amusement a moment, before shutting and locking the door. "It's a python. I guess it got out of his cage several days ago and has been sleeping on the bookshelves; she was very grateful that we, uh, found Walter. She was so worried about him that she hasn't been eating; that's why she fainted."

"You mean that thing hasn't eaten in two or three days? The snake, I mean!" Johnny's last word was punctuated by a grunt, as he was currently involved in a strange dance that consisted of him jumping on one foot and brushing at his leg, then repeating the same motion on the other foot. "Ahhhh! Something's biting me! Help me out here Roy!"

After several minutes of frantic brushing and squashing, John finally gave up and dropped to the curb. His back to the house, he pulled off his shoes and socks and rolled up his pant legs. Again several minutes crawled by as both men located and smashed the ants that were marching determinedly up John's legs. After they were fairly sure that they had exterminated the biting insects from his itching legs, he rolled his pant legs back down and thoroughly examined his socks and shoes. Quickly putting everything back where it was supposed to be, he detoured to the edge of the lawn, squatted down, and peered at the grass. Yep, ant hills, hundreds and hundreds of them. He limped over to the squad, shaking his head, and slid in. He glanced quickly at the house, hoping that at least Amber had retreated into the house before he began his macabre dance of embarrassment. Knowing his luck, both she and her father had watched it from one of the front windows.

Roy settled into the other side and called them in available, glancing over at Johnny as he did so. His partner appeared deep in thought, rubbing absently at the stung finger from earlier. Roy shifted into gear, slowly pulling away from the curb. Johnny finally shifted in his seat, turning slightly to face Roy.

"Ya know, Roy, I really don't like snakes."

"I can take or leave them, although I have to admit when Walter started slithering down my shirt, it was definitely all in the leave category. My son has been asking about getting one….Amber gave me some suggestions on where to start in case we decide to get one for him. But absolutely not a big one like that, maybe a corn snake."

Johnny shook his head forlornly. "Nope, the only good snake is one on a stick roasting over a fire, or fried on a plate. Like the fried rattlesnake at that place in Phoenix, yep, the only way."

Roy couldn't think of a reply for that one, so gave it up and concentrated on his driving. He abruptly slowed down and started to pull over when Gage squirmed on the seat, and jammed a hand under the waistband of his pants. Roy quickly averted his eyes and stopped the squad under the low hanging branches of a tree, not wanting to witness the murder of an ant, or ants, daring to go where no ant should go, especially on a man!

After a long pause and a string of incomprehensive mutterings, Johnny blew out his breath in a disgusted huff and wiped the ant guts from his fingers on his leg. "I just don't believe this. What next, flying squirrels?"

He slumped down in his seat and gazed dejectedly out of his open window, tapping his fingers on the window frame, and stubbornly refusing to turn his head to look at DeSoto, whom he knew was looking at him.

"Johnny…" Roy began softly, fighting the sudden impulse to grab the younger man's chin and force him to look at him. Both men jumped when a sudden clunking noise hit the roof; they both caught a glimpse of it as it clattered down the windshield, scurried across the front of the squad, and then scrabbled back up on the roof in a flurry of noise.

"What the hell! Did ya see that? Was that a…no way!" Johnny bellowed, flying up on his seat and swinging his upper body out of the window.

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><p>So, having been stung by scorpions at least 7 times, I can truthfully say that the sting on my finger was the worst – the numbness lasted for about 2 months!<p> 


	2. Jabber, Cluck, and Phew

Jabber, Cluck, and Phew

Hearing strange noises emitting from the roof of the squad, and not being able to see what his partner was doing, as he was only visible from the waist down, Roy grabbed for the door handle to exit the vehicle. The abrupt sound of Gage sliding back into the seat halted his motion, and he whipped his head back to look at the other man.

"Roy…" Johnny began, hands still gripping the door frame above him as his head came into view. He looked warily over at the older man, a sheepish look crossing his face. "I kinda…."

"Was that what I thought it was?" Roy interrupted, his normally low pitched voice raising slightly as he chattered on, oblivious to Johnny's rapidly changing facial expressions. "Furry, brown, a collar? Do mon..."

"Roy!" Johnny finally snapped, effectively halting the chitter chatter streaming from his partner's lips. John finally released his white knuckled hold on the window frame and wiped a hand across his face in frustration. Either the unflappable Roy DeSoto was having a delayed reaction to that cold blooded reptile slithering across his body, or he had mistakenly agreed to be saddled with an emotionally unstable rescue/paramedic partner. Surely DeSoto's reputation as a level headed, calm man in a crisis hadn't been exaggerated, had it? Nah, no way, he had done his homework on the man; he suspected Roy had done the same on him before asking him to partner up with him.

Had to be that snake call that was flustering Roy… Wandering thoughts were rapidly yanked back to stark reality when another clatter came from the rooftop; both sets of eyes rolled upwards as if to peer with x-ray vision through the metal roof. Johnny slapped a hand down on the seat, once again grabbing Roy's attention. Roy swallowed hard, took a deep breath to gain control of his brief panic attack, and focused hard on Johnny's wide eyed, somewhat bewildered expression.

"Roy," John quickly blurted out, afraid of losing the other man's attention. "I uhhhh….left my helmet on the roof and that….that monkey is ummm….playing with it?"

His attention finally focused on the words Johnny was trying to squeak out, Roy stared at Gage incredulously. "So it is a monkey!"

Gage ducked his head and ran a hand across his jaw. "Yeah, yeah, definitely, a weird looking monkey, with a collar on, no less, okay?"

"You're asking me, then, how do you take a helmet away from a monkey?" DeSoto queried seriously, but then his shoulders began to shake quietly as a vivid image played through his mind. Johnny stared at him, opened his mouth, shook his head, and then closed his mouth. His lips twitched and then erupted into a lopsided grin.

"Well, my uniform allowance is pretty well shot from that cave in, and that sewer rescue, and I already lost one helmet before I came on with 51's, so…" he let the words trail off as his hand fumbled behind him for the door handle, and he half tumbled, half stepped backward onto the street. After calling in on the radio to request animal control, Roy vaulted out of his side of the truck, snickering.

"This I have to see!"

Well, Gage was definitely right. There WAS a monkey on the roof, with a pink and blue collar encircling his scrawny neck. Strange looking thing, really, were they even legal to have as pets? Roy moved around to the front of the squad and watched the multi colored animal banging Johnny's helmet up and down on the squad roof. Having only seen chimps and orangutans at the zoo, he had no idea of what kind of monkey this white faced animal was, and wasn't sure how it was going to react to the presence of Gage, who had jumped up on the back of the squad and was working his way towards the now frantically chattering monkey.

DeSoto leaned forward on the hood, placing both hands down on the warm surface. He could hear his partner's voice talking low and quiet to the animal, who was now making a sound that sounded like, barking? Johnny apparently thought it strange too, for he had stopped in his forward stalk about two feet from the agitated animal, arms slightly outstretched. With a final outraged squeal, the monkey leapt into the air, trying to take the helmet with him. Between the weight and John's grabbing hand, the primate gave it up and instead flew onto John's hastily ducked head, and partway down his back. Another flying leap onto the brilliant yellow air bottles, and then the monkey vaulted up into the branches of the tree. Roy could hear the pet's complaining chatter easily from his frozen position.

Taking a deep breath, Roy slowly dropped his eyes from the tree down to Gage, who was slowly straightening up, still gripping his helmet in his left hand. He watched as John lifted his other hand and gingerly touched the back of his head, before sliding it down and feeling the back of his neck and then his shoulders. He glanced at Roy, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, making a face at him. He turned and took one step towards the back of the truck, pausing to track the location of the still chittering animal.

Shaking his head, Johnny turned again and agilely vaulted over the side of the squad, landing flat footed on the pavement next to the sidewalk. He stayed there a moment, gazing up at the tree in disbelief as Roy finally moved around the squad and stopped at his side.

"You ok there, Gage?" He queried, reaching a hand up to pull the other man's shirt collar back to check his neck. He could see several scratches on his bare skin and moved his hand up to check his scalp but was thwarted by John's slapping hand.

"Leave it, would ya? I'm fine, you can clean 'em and put some stuff on them, but not here, ok?" Pivoting around, John put his hand on Roy's chest and suggestively pushed him back a step, jerking his head towards the tree as he did so. Roy gave his own nod in understanding and spun on his heel, once again going around the front of the truck, keeping a wary eye out for the return of the monkey.

The slowing down of a vehicle caught his attention and he paused, leaning his upper body slightly to the left of the opened door he was standing behind. He recognized the white truck of Animal Control, similar to their own vehicle.

"Hey, you guys call about a monkey?" The driver inquired, poking his head out of the window. Roy nodded and grinned, pointing a finger towards the tree.

"Did she have a pink and blue collar on, by chance?"

"Yep, that's the one. You've seen her before?"

"Oh yeah! We were out here two days ago when she got loose, scared the living daylights out of some kids. Then they turned right around and went up a tree after her, kinda like that one she's in now. You should have seen it, tree swarming with screaming kids and one swearing monkey! At least it sounded like swearing; I don't know if she was totally ticked off or just figuring they were all her own kind and was telling them to pipe down." The driver laughed, slapping the steering wheel.

Roy leaned a little further away from the door towards the men, trying to keep his own laughter in check as he wondered just how far Gage would have gone if the monkey had dragged his helmet up the tree. A flash of his seemingly limber partner swinging through the tree in hot pursuit of his stolen headgear almost did him in; he had to clutch at the door frame to keep from falling over as he let the laughter roll out.

"Just out of…curiosity…." He gasped out, "what kind of monkey is that?"

"Squirrel monkey," the man replied, sketching a quick wave at DeSoto and pulling forward as another car came up behind his truck.

Still laughing, Roy dropped into the seat and pulled the door closed. "Flying squirrels, John, flying squirrels!"

He turned towards his partner and looked at him. Johnny was leaning forward in his seat, elbows on knees, helmet clutched between both hands, eyes closed, and shaking shoulders hunched forward. Roy couldn't tell if he was shaking from laughter or reacting to his own delayed shock. His own mirth dissipated as he reached out a hand.

Johnny answered the unspoken question by slowly tilting backwards and sideways, letting his weight rest on the door as he lifted a shaking hand to cover his face. "Not wearing this helmet 'till I disinfect….it…..with bleach…don't care if…we get a three alarm…not gonna do it," he choked out, dropping his arm on the window frame and banging his head down on it, several times, as his slightly hysterical laughter filled the cab.

Roy smirked and started the engine, throwing it in drive and not giving in to his impulse to look behind him in the mirrors. It took almost three miles before his young partner calmed down and glanced at his wide brown leather watch band, shifting moods quickly.

"Aww man, I've got meals today, don't I?" He questioned, hiccupping and absently scratching at his legs.

"Yep! Need to stop for groceries?"

"Yeah, guess I got enough. " John finally answered, rifling through his wallet and squinting his eyes in concentration as he calculated. "At least for lunch, anyways. Can I borrow some 'til I collect it from the guys?"

"No problem. What are we having?"

"Huh, not sure…." He broke off as the radio interrupted him.

"Engine 51, squad 51, motor vehicle accident, cross street Loma Vista and Pine, Loma Vista and Pine, time out 9:42."

"Squad 51, 10-4," Johnny acknowledged, hearing their captain do the same. He picked up the map book off the floor, glancing warily at his helmet that was next to it. Glancing at Roy out of the corner of his eye, he kicked it in irritation and bent his head over the map. "Hang a right up here, then go three blocks to Verona…."

"Got it," Roy replied, his own helmet snugly strapped in place. He hoped Hammer didn't catch the infraction; he sure didn't blame Gage for not wanting to wear it after that monkey had messed with it. They rode in silence to the scene where they found a single car, a blue Duster, with only its back tires on the street. The rest of the car was up over the curb, front smashed into a light pole. Both men looked at the pole, which was leaning precariously over the sidewalk, the top of it touching a tree. Their glances followed the path of the pole, lingering on the leafy tree and scanning the branches as if expecting to see a horde of monkeys swinging through it.

Roy shook his head at their paranoia as he jumped out of the squad; he definitely needed to cut back on his caffeine intake! In deference to his bare headed partner, he tossed his helmet back on the seat before closing the door. He could hear the low rumble of their Crown Firecoach as it pulled up, sirens already silenced.

He trotted over to the driver's side door, bending down to peer through the window. A young woman, teenager probably, was in the driver's seat, holding a hand to her bleeding forehead and leaning slightly forward over the steering wheel. She turned her head to look at him, smiling.

"I really did it this time, didn't I?" She asked sadly. "Dad is going to kill me for wrecking the car."

"Just take it easy….we'll get you out of there. Are you hurt anywhere else besides the cut on your forehead?" The door opened easily under Roy's hands, and he reached in and gently leaned the girl back against the seat. He could hear Johnny on the other side of the car, setting down the trauma box and the bio phone and opening the door. He felt the seat dip slightly as the other man crawled across the seat and paused, probably scanning the back seat to make sure she was the only one in the car.

He could hear the sounds of the men from their station checking the car, scanning for fuel leaks and possible fire. Funny how all this stuff flickered through his mind, standard procedure for an accident scene, really. But now, the responsibilities of his new position had him kneeling down and checking the teenager for fractures instead of just pulling her out. And instead of just checking for a pulse, he was taking her pulse and counting the beats, things that weren't quite yet second nature to him or his equally inexperienced partner.

"No, just the cut, I wasn't going that fast. I got kinda distracted and just, well, jumped the curb and whacked the pole. The car, is it, fixable?"

The paramedic glanced through the front windshield at the crumpled hood of the Plymouth, and figured it wise to keep his opinions to himself. "Sorry, miss, don't really know."

He took the gauze and Kerlix roll that Gage handed him and applied pressure to her cut, satisfied that she was not injured anywhere else. "So what distracted you, anyways?"

"Oh, it was Sammi. She jumped on my shoulder then down by my feet, by the pedals you know."

"Sammi?" Gage's head shot up and he stopped his backward slide across the seat, unable to stop the image of a screaming monkey from replaying in his mind. "Who's Sammi?"

"My skunk. She's so sweet, she's just like a cat."

"De-scented, I hope, "Roy mumbled, casting an amused look at his partner, who was now up on his knees peering over the seat into the back; even as he watched, Gage's head and arms disappeared as he bent over the seat, scanning the floor below. Finishing the bandage on the girl's head, Roy helped her slide out and steadied her as she stood upright beside the damaged car.

"Ah, Dad's here. Would you find Sammi for me, please?" The teenager beseeched, laying a hand on DeSoto's arm.

"Sure, I think my partner may have found her already, though," he replied, turning the girl slightly so that she could see Johnny rising up over the seats, holding the ebony animal carefully with both hands. The expression on his face was priceless, as it was a combination of astonishment and disbelief.

"Uh, yeah, here you go," Gage blurted out, twisting around to face the pair and holding out the skunk. Sammi sat docile between his hands, the only thing moving was her twitching nose. The teenager let out a squeal and took the animal from Gage's hands, stroking her and slinging her against her shoulder.

"Thank you, thank you! Hi Dad….." the girl's voice trailed off as her father appeared next to Roy. John, satisfied that his partner would finish up with the pair, resumed his interrupted trek across the seat and climbed out. Grabbing a box in each hand, he headed for the passenger side of the squad to stow the boxes.

"Gage, the girl ok?" Captain Hammer came up beside the paramedic as he was closing the doors of the compartment. Folding the 4x4 gauze pad that he had soaked with alcohol and clenching it out of sight in his fist, Johnny finished turning the key in the lock before looking over at the older man and nodding his head.

Ever since he had met the captain, John couldn't shake the strange feeling that he had seen or met him somewhere before. Maybe at a fire or one of those charity events the fire department held every so often, but yet it seemed like there was an image burned in his mind of his captain holding a cigarette and wearing a cowboy hat.

Smiling slightly, Johnny looked over to the crumpled car and watched for a second as a small group of men gathered by the front of it and discussed the precariously leaning light standard. He shifted his attention back to his captain, who had turned to watch the gathering. "Yeah, she's fine. Roy's got her dad signing the forms now. Cap, did ya see that skunk?"

"Yes I did. Didn't know that you could keep them for pets, though. See you boys back at the barn." Hammer turned away, then paused and looked back over his shoulder at his paramedic. "What was that call for animal control about?"

Gage unconsciously rubbed at the scratches on the back of his neck, which were beginning to itch. "Ah, that was a monkey, sir."

The startled captain pivoted around to face the younger man, staring in disbelief. At his question, John had immediately lost his somewhat amused poise and was shuffling his feet and rubbing the back of his neck in a distracted manner. Almost seems embarrassed, Hammer thought, or maybe guilty of something?

"A monkey." Hammer's voice was flat, the two simple words not asked, but merely stated. Johnny caught the tone and straightened up, meeting the man's gaze directly and keeping his own voice level and emotionless.

"Yes, sir, a monkey. Someone's pet that got loose. It jumped on the squad and then ran up a tree, so we called animal control."

Sure that there was more to the story, Dick merely inclined his head in acknowledgement, deciding to leave further questions for when they returned to the station. He was definitely looking forward to reading their log, he thought, as he turned and headed back to the damaged car. He nodded at DeSoto as he passed him and continued on.

Roy walked over to his partner, who had one hand clenched on his hip and was rubbing at his neck with the other. Johnny tore his gaze away from their captain and looked at Roy.

"She gonna be ok?"

"Yeah, if she has any problems her dad will take her to their doctor. You ready to head out?"

"Sure, sure."

The men climbed into their truck and headed out. Roy drove towards the grocery store that was about two miles from the station, wondering what Johnny had in mind for lunch. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the other man yawning, then rubbing a hand wearily over his face, pausing in his task of fervently scrubbing the inside of his helmet with a 4x4.

"Caffeine running out?" He asked, slowing to make a turn. Gage glanced at him, trying to stifle another yawn. He reached behind him and hung up his helmet, apparently satisfied with its cleanliness for the moment.

"Yeah. Sure had some strange calls this morning, haven't we? Cap wanted to know why we called animal control…"

"Snakes and monkeys," Roy mused, smiling. "And ants! And then a skunk! Did you tell him about the snake?"

"No way! It was hard enough trying to explain about that weird monkey, I'm not sure he even believed me about that!" Johnny's voice rose in indignation, but then he giggled and shook his head in amusement. "Uh huh, snake, ants, monkey, skunk…and don't forget about that scorpion. Geesh, Roy, maybe we're in the wrong line of work, at least today anyways."

"I know what you mean," Roy agreed, pulling into the parking lot of the grocery store. His partner seemed to awaken fully at the sight of the huge chain store; he grabbed up the HT and waited impatiently for Roy to park. The men had just reached the front of the store when the HT swinging in Gage's hand squawked.

"Squad 51, stand by for response."

"Squad 51," Johnny replied, not bothering to hide his sigh as they abruptly turned around and headed back to the squad. The call came in for an unknown type rescue off of Thornwood Road, one of the roads that ran through a canyon on the edge of their district. The paramedics looked at each other and grinned when they realized they had simultaneously rolled their eyes; a call that far out meant that lunch would be delayed or, for them, probably wishful thinking.

Strapping his helmet in place, Roy flicked on the lights and siren while John perused the map and checked his notes for any road closures or construction that could delay them. They were traveling down the dirt road only several miles away from the address, a tornado of dust twisting behind them, when dispatch canceled the call.

"Second one cancelled this shift," Roy commented, tossing his helmet down between them. Johnny hooked several fingers under his chin strap and pulled it upwards, running his fingers over the strap and then lifting it to his nose and sniffing. Grimacing, he pulled off the helmet and stretched a long arm forward and grabbed the 4x4 he had tossed carelessly on the dash.

"Hopefully nothing that they are going to regret cancelling," he reflected thoughtfully, scouring the strap thoroughly with the still damp gauze. He lifted the helmet up towards the light and scrutinized the strap before resuming his scrubbing. "But hey, maybe still some time….ya know?"

"Maybe," Roy conceded, knowing exactly what John was implying. He too was almost afraid to come right out and say it, maybe jinx their chance to eat, even though he knew it was silly. He tapped the brakes to slow their approach to a slower moving older pickup truck loaded with crates which was rumbling along in front of them. Roy leaned to his left to see if it was safe to pass. Noticing the impending hill and limited visibility, he thought it best to wait. He dropped back in deference to the dust clouds threatening to suffocate them through the open windows.

He looked over at Gage, who was still wiping at the strap. "Monkey spit?"

"Huh?"

"You're obsessing over that helmet. You think that monkey had rabies?"

"Rabies?" The dark haired man squawked out, dropping the helmet. His right hand immediately slapped to the back of his head, feeling for the scratches under his hair, before dropping to his neck. "Seriously? Do monkeys get rabies? Really, Roy?"

Slightly astonished at his partner's paranoia and gullibility, Roy snickered but immediately felt contrite when he saw the panicked look Johnny was shooting at him. "Johnny…"

"Whoa! Watch out Roy!" Gage's arms, crossing at the wrist, reflexively shot straight up to protect his head as a rectangular shaped object came flying straight toward the windshield. Roy stomped on the brakes and jerked the wheel. They heard a splintering crash as whatever it was hit the road in front of them. Both men leapt out of the truck and ran to the front, sliding to a fast halt at what lay at their feet.

"You have got to be kidding!" Gage exclaimed. "We almost got killed by a crate of…chickens?"

DeSoto just slowly shook his head as he took in the sight of the five or so brown chickens pecking and indignantly strutting themselves out of the remains of the wooden crate. Running a hand through his reddish blonde hair, he looked at the dust cloud disappearing in front of them. The probable cause of the flying chicken missile was already too far down the road to catch. He wondered briefly if he should radio in the incident, but as he didn't know the license number and probably couldn't describe the truck, he decided against it. This area was laced with dirt roads that intersected at four way stops; the truck could have already turned off onto another road. He could only hope that the rest of the crates were more securely fastened.

He turned his attention back to Johnny, who was standing with his hands jammed in his front pockets, thumbs hooked through his belt loops. He was watching the chickens, eyes squinted against the dust that was lazily settling down and coating the paramedic's trouser legs and boots with a cocoa colored film. He looked up and met Roy's gaze; he shrugged and shook himself out of his reverie. He headed back to the squad and reappeared a moment later, pulling on his gloves.

Watching his partner pick up the pieces of the splintered crate and toss them off to the side of the road, Roy finally forced himself to move. Feeling decidedly giddy, he wondered if the day's events, especially the snake incident, were affecting his emotional state. He usually prided himself on his calmness and his ability to remain almost aloof during most situations, keeping his thoughts and observations mostly to himself. But today, that call seemed to have shaken his reserved self to the core, bringing out a side that he wasn't even sure that he knew he had. He hadn't missed the annoyance or disbelief earlier in Johnny's voice when the younger man had finally raised his voice to catch his attention; he knew that he had been blathering on about that monkey with no good reason.

Roy sighed and made shooing motions towards the two remaining chickens still in the road; the rest had scampered off into the sparse, dry vegetation along the side of the road to scavenge for whatever chickens liked to eat. Feeling slightly clownish, he flapped his arms at the renegade fowl, who seemed determined to run in the opposite direction of where he wanted them to go. After several abortive attempts to move the stubborn birds, he paused to catch his breath and was astounded by the strange cackling sounds that seemed to be erupting from Johnny.

His partner, who was kneeling on the road picking up the remaining pieces of wood, was shaking with laughter. He finally looked up at DeSoto, a huge smile lighting up his face. "Roy, they're chickens, not cows! You don't herd chickens!"

"Ok wise one, then what do you do with them? Why don't you show me your chicken herding techniques?"

"Hell, I don't know what to do with 'em! This is the first chicken I've seen since I've moved to LA, except for on a plate…"

"Yeah, yeah, fried and all that, just like the only good snake is a fried snake."

Having had just about enough of the misbehaving fowl, Roy picked up several stones and side armed a direct hit on one of the chickens; he was sure that throw would have made his high school baseball coach proud. Unfortunately for his hapless partner, however, the hen didn't appreciate his dead on aim. With an indignant squawk, she flew straight up into Johnny's face.

With a muffled oomph the surprised man, who was rising from his kneeling position with both hands full of crate pieces, tipped over backwards and landed on his back. Wings outstretched, the chicken launched a furious beak and talon attack on Johnny's chest and sunburned neck.

An explosive oath erupted over the furious racket the chicken was shrieking. John's arm shot up and his gloved hand grabbed the hen by her legs, flipping her upside down and away from his body. He slowly rose to a sitting position, his outstretched arm holding the still wildly flapping bird. Using his free hand, he pushed himself slowly to his feet.

Roy, a stone still clenched in his fist, guiltily dropped it and blinked rapidly several times. He watched silently as Gage nonchalantly strolled to the edge of the road and made a flinging motion with his hand, tossing the chicken to her freedom. Looking down at the other hen who was now close to his legs, he casually nudged her off the road with a dust covered boot. Only then did he look at his partner, his dust and sweat streaked face inscrutable as he studied Roy.

After several drawn out seconds, Johnny shrugged and seemed to throw off whatever dark thoughts were taking root. He did a slow pirouette, holding out his arms and looking in dismay at the fine dust covering him from head to foot. "Aw, man, this is ridiculous. This is the only clean shirt I have left. And the pants, well forget that, YOU saw what they looked like when I came on shift."

Swallowing hard, Roy wasn't sure if Johnny had just absolved him of blame, or was merely biding his time before laying into him. He hoped it was the former. His partner definitely knew how to handle chickens, however; he wondered where he had picked up that curious skill and why he hadn't admitted to it. Johnny hadn't volunteered any information about his past or even his family, but Roy felt and hoped that the serious and sometimes intense younger man was beginning to relax around him and would eventually be comfortable enough to talk about everything, not just the trivial day to day things.

He decided to adopt Gage's seemingly "forgive and forget" attitude and smiled. "It's just dust, John; most of it brushes right off."

Roy demonstrated by slapping at his own pants, respectfully moving away from Gage as he inadvertently started stirring up a dust storm.

Johnny just shook his head and moved over to the still opened passenger door of the squad. He opened up the door to the first compartment and pulled the door backwards towards him, creating a small pocket of privacy. He looked around; satisfied that there was no movement on the road in either direction, he unbuttoned his blue uniform shirt and yanked it off. Stepping away from the door, he shook the shirt out vigorously and then turned and tossed it onto the seat of the squad. Glancing around again, he pulled off his t-shirt and quickly used it to wipe down his face and arms and towel it through his hair, before wadding it up and throwing it on the floor of the cab. He was pulling back on his blue shirt when Roy stopped him with a restraining hand on his arm.

"Hold on Johnny. Those scratches on your neck need to be cleaned, they look pretty inflamed." Roy grabbed saline and sterile gauze out of the drug box and paused while Gage pulled his shirt back off. Grumbling, he held the uniform shirt away from him and obligingly bent his neck.

"Hurry up, man, that's all I need, is some kind of reprimand when some old lady files a complaint about the half naked fireman standing in the middle of the road…."

Roy grinned but wisely held his tongue as he poured the saline on Johnny's neck and the back of his head. Using the gauze, he carefully but quickly cleaned the scratches as best as he could. He spun his partner around and checked, then cleaned the hen induced scratches and skin breaks on his chest and neck. "Ok, get your clothes back on, flasher. I'll spray them after you get your shirt on, to preserve your modesty. You might want to rinse your eyes out with the rest of this saline; they're pretty red from the dust."

Johnny snorted but shrugged the shirt back on, buttoning it up and tucking it in with well-practiced movements. Within minutes his battle wounds were taken care of, his eyes rinsed, and the paramedics were safely ensconced in their office on wheels. Roy had finished up the clearing of the debris off the road; all five chickens were happily scrounging for feed at least two hundred feet away.

Exhaling a long, loud breath, Johnny glanced over at Roy. "Do you think that…" he stopped and rubbed his stomach.

"Yeah, let's go get some chow," Roy answered, completely forgetting his previous thoughts about jinxing them and tempting fate. Fate immediately answered him with a man down call. Johnny groaned and acknowledged the call, then bent over and searched for his helmet in the debris littering the floor of the cab.

"I knew it," he muttered darkly, shooting an annoyed look at DeSoto. "I knew I shouda' left you in that house and let that hungry snake take a whack at ya!"


End file.
